Touta Matsuda's Misfortunate Day of Mishaps
by Little-Sparrow-Flying-High
Summary: Matsuda doesn't have the best of luck.
See the end for **notes**

Disclaimer; okay not gonna lie, LxMatsuda would be cannon if I owned DeathNote.

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Touta Matsuda was not having a good morning. He had slept through all of his alarms, waking up almost an hour late, for the start of it. Not only that, but as soon as he sat up, the telltale dizziness, nausea, and the feeling like someone was jamming an ice pick into one part of his head that usually accompanied migraines, suddenly assaulted him.

With the tiniest of whimpers, he stood up, unsteadily, and of course wound up stumbling, scratching his wrist on something sharp enough to make it sting a bit. He decided to ignore it as he got dressed, not daring to turn the lights on lest he wind up vomiting from the intensity of his migraine.

It was only when he felt a tickle on his wrist that he looked down, only to see in the dim light that he scratch he received was in fact bleeding. He gave a startled cry, wincing at the noise before he reminded himself that he most likely would not bleed out just like that. Probably.

One final glance at his wretched alarm clock was enough to get him spurred into motion. He would never hear the end of it if he was late. So, treading carefully, refraining from turning on any lights, Matsuda made his way to his kitchen, where his bottle of migraine pills resided. No way he was going to deal with this torture all day.

With a grimace, he pulled the cap off and popped two of the tablets into his mouth, took a swig of some water, and swallowed.

And promptly started choking.

After a long struggling that involved coughing, hacking, punching his own chest and more excruciating pain to his head, he managed to swallow one and cough the other up enough to take another swig of water, and force the second pill down.

"…well." He whispered aloud. Determined to make the day better, Matsuda straightened up, brushed off his suit, quietly grabbed his keys and headed out, keeping his head high. Of course, he made it about two steps before he was grimacing in pain with a vague sense of hatred towards the world.

Given the circumstances, he decided to catch a cab rather than risk walking or driving in his current state. A decision he soon regretted when it took him ten minutes to hail a cab. His regret only growing when the one cab had a very strong scent of…something. And even more so when he shut the door, and the handle pinched his finger.

'Things can't possibly get worse from here.' Matsuda mused to himself.

Of course he had to be proven wrong.

Because traffic was ridiculous.

And the cabbie liked to talk. A lot. About anything. Primarily himself. For the entire fifty minutes of traffic, the man in front of Matsuda droned on and on. And his voice wasn't exactly soothing. And clearly, he didn't take the hints of the uninterested emittance of "hmm" and "uh-huh" and "yeah".

It was the first and only time Matsuda ever found himself provoked to commit a violent crime.

However, he did make it in one piece. He made it up the stairs and to his office just fine. And, miracle of miracles, the office was quiet. Matsuda could relax. Even his migraine was finally starting to die down. Perhaps it would go away before the chief came in and demanded to know why he was so late. One could only pray.

'Perhaps I should lie low before medical professionals are needed…' Matsuda mused to himself.

Steadily though, he returned to himself as he did desk work. The more the pain subsided, the more he got done. In fact, he was feeling great by lunchtime.

But why should that last?

Because as soon as he was heading down the stairs to get something to eat, something (totally not his shoelace) tripped him, and he was sent tumbling down the stairs. He didn't mean to, but he made quite a racket out of it. Drew in a lot of attention. But instead of getting up and assuring everyone he was okay with his signature goofy grin, he simply lay there. Contemplating life and it's unfairness. He didn't know how long he laid there, motionless, or how dead he probably looked to people around him. However some stranger did in fact help him up and out the door.

It wasn't until he got to his regular restaurant for lunch that he realized his wallet was missing. And when he did, he let out a long suffering sigh and pulled out his mobile to shut off his credit cards. But of course, the screen was cracked.

He could feel the migraine starting to come back.

And not only that, but given that he failed to notice the clouds gathering when he left the house, he found himself caught in a torrential downpour on his way back to the office. He wanted to cry. Or kick something. Or both.

He was soaking wet and overly frustrated by the time he arrived back at the office. He received multiple concerned and slightly intimidated stares from the people around him. Compared to his normal, bubbly and sunny self, he probably looked like a serial killer now with his hair flattened by the rain, eyes dark from lack of sleep and a proper glare on his face, directed at nothing in particular. Just give him an axe and he'd look like a right maniac.

"Er…Matsuda? Maybe you should take the rest of the day off…"

Matsuda looked at Aizawa for a couple of seconds before walking to his office, quickly shutting off his credit cards on his computer before logging off, grabbing his stuff, and walking back out. He took the umbrella Mogi was offering without a word on his way out, avoiding eye contact with just about everyone in his irritated embarrassment

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 **So. Yeah. That was my morning. Well. Up until falling down the stairs.**

 **See. I woke up today only to find that I required a ride to school because I missed my bus. Now. The only reason I take the bus is because even though I am sixteen years old living in the state of Missouri, I don't have my license yet. Yeah. Sad. I know. However. Not the point. I woke up to this huge migraine so I decide to get dressed in the dark. Doing so causes me to catch my wrist on a picture (A PICTURE) and make it bleed. After which I go downstairs, take some excedrin, which I promptly choke on. Yeah. And as I'm getting in my Dad's car so he can bring me to school, I pinch my finger in the handle.**

 **Not only all this, but of course. In my home room. There's this one girl. Who talked at me. The entire time. Even as I blatantly ignored her. Adding on, I had an AP test that I forgot about, and a computer applications that I forgot about. It wasn't a fun day. But! I'm okay. I lived. I came home. Ate, napped, showered, and now it's okay.**


End file.
